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stephentotheplate

Where poetry and stories collide.

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3linetales

I could summon the hordes with a snap of my fingers, My feet, Rooted, planted to the ground I am connect. I could create floods, Hurled bolts of lightening across a placid sky. But I can't recreate the feeling of... Continue Reading →

Feelings (Microfiction)

This imagine invokes feelings. What exactly I feel, I'm not sure. I just know I like the opaqueness of the sky. The foggy-mistiness of the foreground. This imagine invokes feelings. Not quite sure what they are but, I like them.... Continue Reading →

Really?? (Microfiction)

"Sonya, Sonya!" Margaret whispered. "Whaaatt!" Margaret said in an exaggerated tone. "She cutting that cake with a butter knife!" Margaret slowly shook her head in shame "Its like she learned nothing." Welcome to week 170 of Three Line Tales! A... Continue Reading →

About Me (microfiction)

"Sarah just imagine if we could walk into a store and there were books of other people's lives. Not like biographies but like, actual people, who are currently living and like their lives appeared on the pages in real time?!"... Continue Reading →

She wanted to tell him the things he wanted to here. She knew he wanted to hear that this trip hadn't been a waste, that she was more in love with him than ever before, that he was still the... Continue Reading →

Flexin’ Sundays (microfiction)

Sundays were for flexin', the day for showing off your Sunday best. Your best shoes, clothes, hair freshly pressed or afro fluffed to perfection.  Sure, they were there for church; but no one said you couldn't shine a little on... Continue Reading →

Forms of Intelligence (microfiction)

He watched as another couple passed by. Hands locked, he barely overheard the man say, "Look at that robot, he reminds me a lot of you. Stoically awaiting my commands." He watched as the woman's head lowered in shame, she... Continue Reading →

Little Lights (Poem)

Little lights cradled in palms, Wishes, hopes, dreams, symbolized by the little, glowing, flame. Small, fragile, extinguishable. Still, they place those little lights inside those papery lanterns, Smiling, as they sail off into the sky. Welcome to week 125 of... Continue Reading →

Wastelands (poem)

Barren lands echo back to times of plenty. The time of fruitful pastures and gentle slopes, pastoral scenes, long since past. Cracked, dry, dirt and sullen cries; Symbolic vestiges of my life since you left. Welcome to week 127 of... Continue Reading →

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